A clash of clans
by Garbageman1
Summary: Ash is a young, soon to be, trainer. Under the guidance of professor Oak he's being taught how to trainer and fight pokemon in this gritty, untamed world. There are perils he must face and hardship to overcome. He will need to train hard and focused if he wishes to conquer each of the gym leaders, and in the process he'll need to persuade them off of Team Rockets evil clutches.


"Ash!" His mom yelled from down stairs.

"Yes?" responded Ash, groggy.

"Aren't you supposed to meet up with professor Oak today," she asked, her voice stern.

"Yeah, but it's not before eight o'clock, mom." Ash shot back, wearily, though he had slept aptly throughout the night.

It was quiet for a little while. "Yeah, Ash. I think you forgot to turn on your alarm clock. It's eight thirty. The professor won't like his apprentice being tardy on his first field day, you think?"

Ash's heart abruptly started pounding against his chest.  
"Mom," Ash said pleadingly. He stood up on his uncoordinated feet. A stampede of footfalls echoed through the house. Ash fetched his clothes with haste.  
"But you should've woken me," he said with a hint of accusation, though he knew he'd only have himself to blame.

A jacket and trousers where swooped up and thrown on. "Hey, young man. It is not my fault you're tardy in the morning, nor is it my job to keep track of your appointments and promises." Her voice sharp. She was angry, Ash was used to her temper. He was often the root of them, too.

Ash swallowed. She was his meal ticket, so provoking her further was out of the question. And his stomach was growling. And he loved her too, of course.

"Sorry mom," he uttered. "You're right. You haven't by any chance seen my hat?"

There was a pause, then a few footsteps. "You mean the one laying on the kitchen table, where you last put it, after repeatedly being told not to throw clothes on the table. It's unsanitary, my boy."

Ash felt even worse now. There had been a tingling in the back of his mind yesterday, before he went to bed. But he'd done what he always did; brushed it off. His argument? Tiresome.  
Ash swore on the inside. Why couldn't he just remember to pick up his own stuff. Why couldn't he remember his belongings before he needed them. Be organized. He cursed beneath his breath.  
"What's that?" Ash's mom asked  
"Nothing." Ash said anxiously. If she'd caught him cursing too, he'd be in real trouble.  
"Come down to eat won't you? The foods getting cold." Ash stumbled down the stairs, one leg inside the trousers, one hopping on the outside. He wound around the living room, and into the kitchen. There was stacks of bacon and eggs, toasts and beans. The kitchen table was literally full of food.  
Fetching his hat, Ash sat down to eat. They locked eyes, but held their tongues. There was still some tension. Though Ash was grateful that his mother rarely dwelled on the issues, especially since most of them focused around Ash's lack of organizational skills.

Ash ate in a hurry, his buttocks on the edge of his seat.

Suddenly she smiled at him, then said with a serious tune: "Be good now. And learn plenty. Professor Oak knows his about pokemon, and you do well to listen. And don't linger here too long, and don't stray! Keep on the beaten path until you reach his office. If I hear that you've gone astray, I'll whip your butt. Don't look at me like that Ash, I mean it. You know just as well as I that your mind has a tendency to fly wild from time to time. And for love of god, keep off the forest edges." She sighed. "There are wild pokemon lurking in the shadows. It is not safe."

Ash tried to listen and eat, sadly the latter ensnared most of his attention. He nodded as she spoke, throwing in a couple of 'yes, mom' and 'I understand'.

The thought of unknown dangers deep within the forest to the north excited him. Blowing his mother a swift kiss, he raced out the door, slamming it behind.

Up a long slope the beaten path led. And on the top there was a crossroads. One way led north, veiled by cut grass of green and trenches of yellow and brown. He watched eagerly, and at sights reach he saw contours of twisting trees, and looming out were shadows of the mountain. But Ash was not trudging north this day. His path led east, towards the sunrise, and the red dawn rolling over him. Ash sped up, breaking into a run.

The professor's office. Outlines of his office building lit up under the suns glistening rays, blinding Ash in the proses. Yet, Ash did not slow his pace. No, he sped up even faster, quicker, aiming at the steps of his grandfather's stairway. There he leaned against the railing, heaving for air.

"You are late." Came a voice from behind. It sounded old, though with rigid authority. "My rules are inflexible. You will abide them if you wish to study pokemon under me."

"I'm so sorry grandpa…" The professor waved an interrupting hand.

"It's professor Oak when we're on duty, little one." The professor said.

Ash nodded without looking. Then he spun to meet the disappointing look of his grandfather, and was utterly flabbergasted to see the old man smiling. Wrinkles in his face he had too, and enveloped in a grey cloak he was.

"As punishment for making me wait you will have to carry the heaviest pack. Now, don't be downcast, my boy. It will do you good. You'll grow big and strong, little one." Oak's words elevated Ash, turning his frown upside down.

Professor Oak threw him the pack, which was a satchel, brown and with laces. Professor Oak gazed from north, and back to north again, seemingly in ponder.

"Oh, I almost forgot." There was a pause as he studied something in the white veil of clouds. "Gary will join us too… And I do not think there will be rain today, which delights me."

Then he hummed on a puzzling tune.

They strolled carelessly up a winding path of gravel. Passing houses and farmsteads with farm folk, doing farm work. Some plowed fields, others cut grass. Some were attending to pokemon. Pallet Town was a small and bewitching town. The people occupying it were a hardy folk, whom served only themselves and the collective good. There was no trade with other towns or cities, the folks of Pallet Town were wary about strangers. Didn't like them much.

Long hours they often spent doing farm work, early they woke - preferable before dawn - and late they slept. _Awake when it's dark, rest when it's dark_, is a saying one often hears in Pallet Town. And true, indeed, it is. A hardy folk, yes, and rarely do you hear the good folk of Pallet Town moan.

But sure, there's the occasional plodder and trudge. And there can be grimaces of hard labour across their faces when times are tough. Though there are upsides, too. The people of Pallet Town brew ales and smoke pipes at leisure, and often do they gather in the square and sing heartily songs of renowned trainers and their pokemon.

Though the songs had lessened of late, Ash thought. Why? He discarded the thought as quickly as it had appeared.

"Head west, on this path." Professor Oak gestured at the narrow path leading up a hill-slope. Which had been an overgrown thicket not too long ago, and of late it was coppiced and cultivated. "I will fetch Gary. You will follow the path to near the end. There's a sign there: route 19 it says. You know of it?"

Ash nodded.

"Good lad. You best be off. Do not dwell or dawdle. The post will be our rendezvous. Wait for us there." Professor Oak shot Ash a glimmer of a smile and ruffled his hair, before turning south, down a bushy pathway, leading into a meadow.

As Ash walked, he kicked a pebble ahead, and wondered what pokemon he was going to see. His mind flew swiftly, and suddenly the thought of which pokemon was going to be his first swivelled in his mind. There were so many. And all of them so distinct and precious. There was charmander, a fire type. Which would be helpful if one needed warmth at night. Ash felt a shiver as a flicker of wind passed him by. And fire-types were strong against grass-types. But there was bulbasaur and squirtle, too. The former a grass type, while the latter a water type.  
Ash, unable to decide, threw three invisible pokeballs from his hand, then he proceeded to scream commands at the three imaginary pokemon. They performed spectacular attacks, with dagger-sharp precision, conquering their enemy, driving them off.

"Ha-ha," he cheered. "We are victories!"

And there, a few lengths down the winding slope, a peculiar looking man was talking to a peculiar looking woman. Ash crouched, scraping his knees on moss-covered rocks as he slowly crawled towards them. The two silhouettes were in a dialogue, one leaning against the route 19 post. Ash's stomach wrenched at the sight of them, something was off.

"Come on, James," the female said. "There's no one on the trails. No one will notice. It's just a tiny trap."

"It's also illegal." James responded. There was distraught in his voice, as though something made him uneasy.

"And since when did Team Rocket bother with law? And this isn't even that harmful," she slithered. "It's just a few sweet illegalities to keep the blood pumping."

Ash had closed in. Close enough to sniff her strong perfume. Sweat was pouring down from his hair. His body tensed.

"You do know who wanders these parts of the woods right, Jesse?" James said, rhetorically.

Jesse spat on the ground, then kick at a shrub.

"Fine," she said under her breath. "You're right. If the so called professor catches us doing something we ought not to he'll surely toast us. Nor would he stop hunting us."

Jesse swore.

"Indeed. And we have more… pressing matters to attend to." There was a shift in the air.

Jesse nodded eagerly. Ash was certain he saw them both snickering.

"I'll catch that pikachu, James, heed my words. One day it will be mine. I don't know what it roams these parts of the land. It doesn't belong here. Nothing belongs here, except foul-smelling bugs. But it's here, and therefore, so will I."

"You sure will," said James, his mood jolly.

Ash stretched low, laying his ear against the ground, listening. He held his breath, then breathed out. Relieved. They were gone.

Not before long came the professor and Gary slanting down. Ash was in ecstasy, rumbling about them, jumping wildly up and down, not able to form a complete sentence.

"Wait, slow down, little one. What did you see?" Asked the professor when Ash had finally taken a breather.

"I saw two people. A man and a woman talking…"

"Ooh, a man and a woman talking," mocked Gary. "That's wildly important news. Thanks for telling us in vibrating riddles." He made a grimace, too.

"They were talking about traps, and illegal things. And a pikachu."

Professor Oak restrained them. "This is serious news, Ash. Are you certain that's what you heard?"

Ash was about to confirm when he felt a hand grasp around his shoulder, shoving him so he lost his footing, and tumbling a few feet backwards.

"Don't listen, professor. Ash has a vivid imagination. He probably imagined it."

"Did not," Ash pouted from behind.

"Did too," Gary snorted, making a face.

"Enough you two. Ash don't go about making up stories. If you cry for help when help isn't needed, no one will believe you when you do need help."

Ash wanted to intervene, but the professor cut him off with a swift hand gesture. He was having nothing of it. And Ash was afraid that professor Oak would exclude him from future field days if kept pushing, so he dropped it. Though his brows tightened slightly.

"And Gary," the professor said, scoldingly. "Shoving is the losing man's argument. You're older than Ash, and should behave as such. You're his protection, his ward. You're cousins, family, act like it."

"Sorry professor," The said together.

Deep within the ticket the company of three marched. Gary had point. The professor lurked back. And Ash was blissfully in the middle. The air was low and thick the further they ventured on. Trees had branches which leaned over them, menacingly. There was barely any sunlight now, and Ash felt sharp chills on his cheeks, almost like cuts against his skin.

"Are we there yet?" The ten-year-old asked, mustering as much courage as he could, so not to sound frightened or disheartened. Though a chill was creeping up his lower back.

"Not much further, my boy. Keep focused. Gary!" The professor shouted. "Can you see the clearing up ahead?"

Gary was taller than Ash, old too, and his pace had surfed him out of sight. Though, because of the thicket, he wasn't further ahead than a few lengths. Ash was strong for his age, too. And could keep up with both Gary and his grandpa, but maybe not with such a heavy pack wrapped about his shoulders.

"Yeah, professor." Gary's voice shot back. "I found it. Keep walking straight, over the overgrown stones and bushes. But we careful of the ivy."

The professor and Ash made haste, Ash half climbing over the moss covered boulders. Carefully maneuvering between the spotted ivy.

"It sure is spectacular." Said professor Oak when their feet touched patchy grass, and the sun washed over their faces, and the air was cold and fresh.

"We'll rest here, youngsters. No point in going further before our bellies have been filled and…" as the professor scouted for wood to kindle he trailed of in song. There was no need to bother with finishing sentences.

Ash removed his jacket, and bundled it on a nearby rock. His stomach growled ravenously, though it had been known to overstate just how hungry it was.

"I'm famished," he finally said, squatting on top of a rock.

"You don't even know the meaning of the word," responded Gary, with that stupid look on his face.

"Yes, I do. It means hungry." Ash puffed, crossing his arms.

"Ash, I swear. You're so stupi…" Gary stopped mid sentence. Professor Oak had returned, and there was nothing but a scowling look on his face.

Gary coughed, "it means extremely hungry Ash." His tone soft and gentle.

"Good lad," smiled professor Oak and throwing him a thumbs up. "Now, let's eat as a family."

Professor Oak bestowed onto Ash the task of filling up their water canteens, so Ash took to his feet and went. Under the trees above him the last of shadow and night took refuge from the flickering of day. It was a constant battle between night and day, neither one forfeiting. Ash came down a steep slope carrying three canteens. The swooshing sounds of thrashing water steering him. Before long he stood by the bank of a ravine. On each side where steep slopes, and on the bottom - where he stood - a river. It unfolded like an arch. And the sun had not yet settled in.

Lower down the river cascaded. Ash kneeled on the edge of the grass, leaned forward, watching as the canteens trapped water inside them. His hands were freezing. Above him a flock of bird pokemon soared under the naked sky. Ash recognised pidgey and pidgeotto, but there were also a few others, those even larger. With similar coating. Brown, but white chested. Some had a red crest of feathers on their heads, and tails as gleaming as the dawn. Their talons hung sharp like razors from under them, glinting to the touch of the sun. The sun arched over the peaks due east, whilst the moon tucked in westward.

Ash was about to turn and head back, but as he stood up the quick action made his head dizzy. His eyes spun rapidly and without control, like a boulder rolling down a mountain, and then he lost his footing.

Tumbling he realised something was off. He hadn't the grip of firm ground beneath him anymore. He feared the worst. Then he heard the crash of his own body clashing with the river.

In panic he screamed for help and drove his hands to a swim, but the current was too strong to fight, and was dragging him down. Barely able to keep himself afloat shrills and cries resonated from him, some muffled by the rough water. No one was coming. He'd been dragged far down the river.

Then, as Ash's mouth and nose unwillingly submerged, and the cold water had frozen his muscles shut, a thundering yellow light shot up from behind the arch. It was close to him too. Right up into the sky it went, like a beacon of electricity. And overtaking his body was exhaustion, and a dark shroud befell his eyes.

Professor Oak and Gary sat idly on tougher grass, their feet bathing in the warm ground. A winding swathe lay northward, and on either side there were dense patches of bushes and trees. Vast towards the distant unknown it crawled.

"I wonder what's out there?" Gary asked.

The professor poked at the crumbles of sparks which remained in the midst of the bonfire. It kindled up, and grey clouds of smoke rose skywards.

After a time he spoke: "you should not wish to be so hasty out the door. And I fear you'll meet the marks and woodlands sooner than anticipated. There is evil growing, and a perilous journey ahead."

Gary's eyes widened, his face draining of colour. The way his grandfather spoke, so unhinged, so raw. It gave Gary the creeps.

"Oh, indeed," continued the professor. "You know of the perils I speak. There's an organisation which is stirring in matters ancient and dangerous. We have talked about this before. You remember, yes?"

Gary nodded. He remembered when he was thirteen, and the talks he had about the rangers and dark days. A group of men devoted to fight the darkness and find peace between cities, and prosperity throughout the land. Gary recalled, too, that they were dissolved and forgotten. Green clouds was one of their names. The free ranger army, another.

Professor Oak told stories about battles and perils and trepidation across Kanto before the unity forged by the gym leaders flourished.

"They were unwell times. There was no leadership or law at place. Privateers came swooping in with battle hardened pokemon, slaughtering and pillaging at will." He sighed, and spoke again after some time had passed. "These times are better, though something stirs under the looming mountain. And I for one do not like it, not one bit. Gives me the chills it does."

"Professor," Gary asked after a short while. "What will you have me do?"

Professor Oak let out a puff of air, his brow tightening.

"Nothing beyond what I believe you can manage. As I said, these times are wary. And the rangers are no more. I need eyes and ears throughout the region. Up till now it's been mostly me and Bill. And this Team Rocket group suddenly spurring out of infertile soils gives me headaches. You, and Ash, when he's older, will have to take up this quest."

"How?" Gary asked, astounded.

"By doing what you wish to do. Become a trainer. And whilst you go about, you'll influence or conquer those around you. I'm losing influence with the cities every passing day. Most of them now view me as an old oddball. My days are numbered. And that's why I need you, and Ash."

Gary hunched forward, his head almost leveled with his knees. Trying, and failing, to process the staggering flood of information. _What is he asking of me? Am I to become a spy for some forgotten order. Is it what I want. Times are troublesome. I sense it in grandpa. Yes, I must do what he asks. I must gain power through gym badges, and thus influence the cities. We're all dependant on each other. I just wish I understood. And this will become Ash's quest, too. We must unite in spirit and in heart. But I fear I'll be leaving soon. Though there's an upside…_

Then, at the same exact second a yellow light jolted up to the sky, Gary did too, and shouted: "Where is Ash?"


End file.
